


Always the paperwork

by TiffanyF



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Not to be taken seriously, Other, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiffanyF/pseuds/TiffanyF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is (loosely) inspired by a line from my story "Paths" where Coulson was talking about how sexy he found a certain form. I never meant for this to happen. Don't own anything. Might even disavow knowledge of the idea by the end of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always the paperwork

Whispers always flew around the halls of SHIELD that Agent Phil Coulson was a robot. Some sort of a machine. He was always perfect in appearance no matter what happened around him. He appeared out of nowhere when agents were least expecting it. The most telling evidence anyone could ever find, however, was his love of paperwork. It wasn't natural, no one should enjoy paperwork as much as Agent Coulson did. It wasn't just his own paperwork either. He would read through all his assets' paperwork as well, make corrections and notations and return it to be done again. Coulson maintained it was professional to have paperwork turned in correctly. Everyone else maintained Coulson was bloody nuts, but never where there was even the slightest risk he could even possibly be hiding. Right up on par with the rumors about Agent Coulson was the respect that everyone in SHIELD paid him. His reputation was legend and no one even questioned if he'd done half the things he was rumored to have done.

Coulson endured the whispers with amusement. He knew that he was slightly warped in the head, which was why he always did his paperwork with is door locked and, ever since acquiring Clint Barton in mysterious circumstances that only he, Barton and Director Fury knew about, the vents closed and locked as well. Coulson didn't just love paperwork in the sense that he enjoyed seeing it filled out properly and filed away safely when it was all finished. He loved paperwork so much that he had an automatic reaction to a blank form, one he couldn't control. It was embarrassing, really. If he wasn't able to lock himself in his office, he made sure he was at a desk with a front panel on it so no one would be able to see his lower body. He never did paperwork in the field. Coulson was able to hold all the details in his head until he was back in his office and able to give the forms the attention they needed.

Unfortunately for him, Director Fury knew how passionate Coulson was about paperwork, and Fury had a demonic streak in him. He always had HR route all new forms to Coulson for review and final approval, no matter what they were putting in place. The junior agent from HR had just left, having brought Coulson a folder with the new internal incident reports in it. Coulson waited until the man was gone and then stood, locking his door and slipping the chair under the handle. He wasn't stupid and knew how could Barton was with lock picks. Then he locked down his vents and turned to look at his desk.

The official folder sat there, looking innocent, in the middle of his desk. Coulson stripped off his suit jacket and hung it on the coat rack off to the side of the door. His breathing picked up as he took off his tie and undid his cuffs, rolling his sleeves up past his elbows. Coulson licked his lips in anticipation as he crossed the room and sat down behind his desk again. The took one copy of the forms out of the folder and shut them safely away in his desk. Then he picked up the first page and started to read over the information, eyes picking out each word. As Coulson visually estimated each line to make sure there was enough space, his cock started to harden, pushing against his suit trousers uncomfortably. He absently dropped a hand down into his lap and started to rub slowly, teasing through the fabric as he read. When he found a small error, a missing colon, he picked up his red pen with a moan of loss and circled it carefully. He continued to read, finger slipping through the slot between buttons, searching for a nipple, but there wasn't enough space for him. Coulson slowly unbuttoned his shirt enough that he could slide his hand in and his hips jumped at the first pinch to his nipple. He licked his lips again and employed his nails, switching the first page of the set of forms to his other hand, so he could tease the other as well. 

He put the first page down and picked up the second, noting that there wasn't enough space for comments under the first section heading. Coulson leaned forward and made a note. Then he slowly undid his belt and pants, pushing them down enough that his erection could pop out into the cooler air of his office. He wasn't sure if it was a typo or not, but there were four random dots of ink in the box for comments. Coulson circled each with his red pen and wrote a query to the HR department to ensure that when the forms were reprinted, the random dots were gone. There was no reason for the pristine white of the box to be marred by dots of ink. Those dots would pull the eye away from the report. He picked up the third page, the one intended for handlers to use when speaking with their assets about the report, and finally wrapped a hand around his leaking erection. Coulson read through the page slowly, letting the heat build up in his body, teasing, because there were two pages to go and he had to give each of them the attention they deserved.

The only downside to his love affair with paperwork was that there was no one to kiss. Coulson leaned back in his chair, still stroking himself slowly, and licked his lips again. He really needed to find a steady relationship. Maybe there was someone out there that would understand his strange affection for forms. He focused back on the task at hand, and slowly sped up as the tension grew in his stomach. Coulson could tease himself all he wanted, but in the end, he was never able to tease himself into climax. He would always speed up, rushing to feel the explosion. He picked up the fourth page, forcing his hand to slow a little, twisting it to give as much pleasure as he could without ending things. It was another box for comments, this time clear of invading black dots. Coulson nodded to himself and picked up the final form. The signature page and space for cross-reference were both fine and Coulson finally let his climax wash through him, stroking frantically, trying to get as much pleasure as he could. 

Coulson fell back in his chair, panting, and noticed that he had, once again, stained the forms when he climaxed. It was the reason Director Fury always had two copies sent to Coulson. He knew the truth, Director Fury knew everything, and thought it was harmless enough, as long as the forms were proofed and put into play in a timely manner. Coulson had yet to disappoint. He could never turn away from a blank form needing his attention. He cleaned up and wiped down his hands before pulling the spare set out of his desk. He fixed it to a clipboard that lived on top of his filing cabinet and he copied over his edit marks and corrections before tucking the clean copy snugly back into the official file to be routed back to HR. The form would be sent out the next day, right on schedule.


End file.
